The Blind Barber by John Dickson Carr Page A

Doctor and officer were hoisting up their commander …
    “Wait a minute!” shouted Whistler, as there began to be a general melting-away of spectators. The good eye glared. “Hold on, there, you, whoever you are! You thought I was drunk, did you? Well, I’ll show you! I want to ask you a lot of questions in a very few minutes. Stop where you are. I’ll show you how drunk—”
    “But look here, Captain,” protested Warren, “we’re wet through! We’ll stay, if you like, but let this young lady go back to her cabin—to get a coat, anyway. She hasn’t got a coat! There’s no reason why she should stay, is there? None of us can run away and—”
    “Y OU’LL TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WILL YOU ?” said the captain, his chest swelling. “Y OU’LL GIVE ORDERS ABOARD MY SHIP, WILL YOU ? Haa! Strike me blind! There! Now just for that, my lad, you’ll all stop exactly where you are; you won’t move as much as a fraction of an inch from where you are, or sink me! I’ll put the whole crew of you under arrest! Sink me! I’ll put everybody under arrest, that’s what I’ll do. And when I find the so-and-so who hit me with a bottle and stole that emerald—”
    “Don’t!” Morgan said to Warren in a fierce whisper, as he saw the other lowering his head curiously and shutting up one eye as he regarded Captain Whistler, “for the love of God don’t say anything, Curt! In another minute he’ll be making us walk the plank. Steady.”
    “You won’t move,” pursued Captain Whistler wildly, lifting up his hands, squinting at them, and holding them a fraction of an inch apart before his face, “you won’t move so much as that distance from where you are. You won’t even move that far. You won’t stir. You won’t—Who was that who spoke?” he broke off to demand. “Who’s there anyway? Who are you? What was that about a coat? Who had the nerve to ask me something about a blasted coat, eh?”
    “My name’s Warren, Captain. Curtis Warren. You know me. I hope you don’t think I’m the crook you’re after?”
    Whistler stopped, stared, and seemed tumultuously to reflect.
    “Ah!” he said in a curious tone, “Warren, hey? Warren. Well, well! And who is with you?” When three voices spoke up simultaneously he took on a grim but rather nervous tone. “Stay where you are now! Don’t move … Mr. Baldwin, you watch them. I mean, watch him . You’ve been wandering round the boat, have you, Mr. Warren? And what’s that on your head? Come into the light. Sticking plaster. Oh, yes. You hurt your head … ”
    Warren made a gesture. “Yes, I did. And that’s what I want to tell you. If you won’t let us go, at least send somebody back to my cabin. Send the doctor, you old fool! You’re all right. Send the doctor, I tell you. There’s a young girl back there—unconscious—maybe dead—I don’t know. Have some sense, can’t you? She’s been hit over the head and knocked unconscious …”
    “ What ?”
    “Yes. Somebody cracked her over the head and then—”
    Between them, the doctor and the second officer got the captain away to a sheltered recess, where he did not stop talking. He would hear of nothing, not a step or a movement. He insisted that the four conspirators should remain within reach of the eye of Mr. Baldwin, who was holding up the flashlight for the repair-work. So they huddled against a glass front that was stung with whips of rain; Warren took off his coat and wrapped it round the girl, and they took whispered communion.
    “Listen,” said Morgan, peering over his shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot. “We’re going to be jolly lucky if we don’t get shoved in the brig. Scuttle my hatches, the old man’s raving. He’s insane, and you don’t want to cross him. What fathead dropped that whisky-bottle beside him, anyway?”
    “Ay did,” replied Captain Valvick, thumping his chest. He beamed proudly. “Ay tank dat was a touch of yenius, eh? What iss wrong? Dere wass no